


Angel vs. Dragon

by LCNH1



Series: WWE Thrallverse [2]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 16:25:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17267441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LCNH1/pseuds/LCNH1
Summary: Mustafa Ali has been brought to Smackdown Live, away from his 205 peers, to deal with the corrupted "American Dragon". While the world sees an amazing wrestling match, those "in the know" see an angel trying to rescue the blackened soul of a bearded dragon.





	Angel vs. Dragon

Ali sighed as he heard the "American Dragon" rant on and complain to the humans about living through him. "The old Daniel Bryan is dead! And the Yes Movement is dead! Just like any parasite, you've taken residence on the couch of the house that AJ Styles built!"

 

AJ wasn't in the building that night; he was nursing a leg injury. Ali got a phone call to face Daniel.

 

He was honored to face a WWE Champion, even if there were no titles on the line.

 

He was intrigued with the idea of wrestling a dragon.

 

Daniel Bryan Danielson, the "American Dragon", had amazing charisma and ability for his size. Even a small dragon such as he inspired with stubborn determination, fantastic technical work, and a strange sense of selflessness when it came to competition.

 

That switch flipped hard when he stole the WWE title from AJ Styles. It seems gold in a dragon's hands only brings out the dragon even more. What altruism Daniel once had vanished, twisting into some sort of activistic white knighting about the environment and such. Noble, but his message being sent the wrong way.

 

Ali strode out to stop Bryan's ranting. He didn't bring the flashy gear. His wings were trembling in anticipation.

 

But here the Dragon initially welcomed him and showered him with praise. Bryan introduced him to the fans, and many cheered to acknowledge that they knew of Ali, had seen Ali work, and was well aware of the uphill battles he had on 205 Live and was a strong, positive sort.

 

"I see a lot of myself in you, Ali," Bryan commented once he'd layered his praise. Ali found that confusing; sure they both were (typically) winged creatures, and Bryan had his comfortably closed despite his anger and frustration that he'd been spitting on the Las Vegas crowd.

 

"Let me just give you some advice: you and I? We don't need to have this match tonight. They won't care after this match is over with. They're too self-absorbed! They're too Xenophobic!"

 

 _Ouch,_ Ali thought, _that cuts a couple of different ways. And to Bryan, that's somewhat pot and kettle._

 

"These fickle people do not deserve this," Daniel pointed back and forth from himself to Ali.

 

Ali shook his head, sensing the thrall that Bryan cast over the audience. His cadance, his condescension, his ire dripped on the crowd like syrup. Bryan wants them angry, this dragon has chosen to turn away from all these people he long protected under a positive message and unmatched exuberance. The supposed hypocrisy of the crowd only made Bryan shout "FICKLE!" in calculated rage.

 

This match had to happen. Mustafa Ali quickly gathered his thoughts. "What happened to you? Daniel, you're the one who inspired me. You made me believe that I could be a WWE Superstar. And all those guys on 205 Live - we all look up to YOU.

 

"You would be that underdog that would stand toe-to-toe with anyone to prove you could hang because you had heart!" Ali could only shake his head again in dismay. "What happened? You keep talking about the 'old Daniel Bryan'. The 'old Daniel Bryan' - he would want a FIGHT! And that's what I want! I. Want. A. FIGHT!" He could feel his wings loosening on his back. His own thrall had silenced the "What?!" chants that rained down on Bryan as he threw his temper tantrum.

 

Bryan paced around the ring while Ali gave him room, not taking his eyes off the champion. The "Fight!" chant erupted from the crowd. Ali couldn't help himself, waving to them with one hand and a tip or two from a wing. Bryan glanced at the gesture, his own wings rustling.

 

"What kind of car do you drive?" Bryan's next question caught Ali a little off-guard. What did that have to do with anything? It was a rental anyway, not like he drove his own car to shows.

 

"I drive an SUV," he replied in abject consternation.

 

"You are a small, small, little man, why would you need an SUV?"

 

"Well, as you know, I have a family, I have a wife, I have two children - "

 

Bryan silenced him with a firm slap. "IGNORANT!" he snarled, slapping Ali again when he tried to stand. "IGNORANT!" He repeated, this time winding up his hand and a wing.

 

Mustafa Ali refused to be bullied by a dragon. He blocked the incoming swings and headscissored Bryan out of the ring. A dropkick kept Bryan on the floor. Ali followed up quickly with a somersault senton, leaving the dragon reeling. He returned to the ring to pull more thrall before Bryan could recover.

 

The dragon returned to the ring incensed, knocking heads with Ali. "You think you belong in the ring with me??" He demanded. "Do you?" He rained kicks and knees before locking Ali's legs and clawing on his nose. The referee's admonishments ignored briefly; Daniel sat on the hold for a few extra seconds before releasing it and stomping on one of Ali's wings.

 

Ali caught a break between kicks to land one on Daniel's chin, then two to his head, sending Bryan sprawling. One cover attempt later Bryan had escaped to the floor. Ali followed up quickly with a baseball slide, then joined Daniel on the floor.

 

"Stop running!" Ali protested.

 

"Make me!" Bryan thrust Ali into the ringpost. HARD. Mustafa crumpled from the impact. _Stupid dragon strength,_ he lamented.

 

For a few moments the crowd started to muffle. He heard booing, so Daniel must have returned to the ring. The crowd faded again, leaving only one sound in his ears.

 

His heart. Still beating. Still beating strong. He clawed at the mat to leverage himself to all fours. The ref's count already to seven. He reached for the apron.

 

"EIGHT!"

 

He managed to push up to one knee.

 

"NINE!"

 

He refused to be counted out, even if he had to use his wings to give him some lift under the bottom rope. The room still spun, given more force as Bryan pawed at him in disgust. "And Stay down~!"" Bryan ordered, mockingly heading to the corner to climb up.

 

Ali watched a moment through his addled vision. He wasn't about to be shown up on his aerial abilities. With a bit of focus he pushed to his feet and instinct took over. He bounded up the ropes and flipped the broody dragon with a Spanish Fly. Bryan was partially ready and used his wing to push Mustafa away from him on the landing, costing his opponent valuable seconds for a pinfall attempt.

 

_Two can play at that game._

 

Ali grabbed one of Bryan's legs and tried dragging him to the corner. Daniel used his tail to trip Ali, but the leg remained trapped, partially grapevined. Ali deliberately fell toward the corner, reluctantly releasing the leg to climb up and try to finish the match.

 

"You want to fly?" Daniel growled. "Let me give you a hand with that!" He grabbed Ali's foot and swung a wing at his opponent's backside.

 

Mustafa couldn't control the fall, forehead grazing the ring. The dragon pounced, bringing the angel back into the ring to be Locked up. "Where is your worship now?" He hissed, tail wrapping around one of Ali's legs.

 

He didn't respond; he still had a leg free to turn his body back to the ropes to force a release. He rolled to his back and replied with a defiant glare.

 

"You still want to fly? Aim lower!" Bryan hung Ali up in the corner and kicked him in the chest and head. He slumped, but glared at Daniel anew.  "If you're not going to stay down, I'll just have to drop you from a higher platform!"

 

Thrusting Ali's carcass into the corner, the dragon climbed up behind for a back superplex.

 

"There's your mistake," Mustafa rumbled.

 

Both launched from the corner, but Bryan forgot to lock Ali's wings. He used them to extend his rotation, then slammed them shut to roll to the corner. "I'll stay down if you choose to fly!" He taunted. Bryan charged, crashing into the turnbuckle as Ali crawled away.

 

"Dragon!!" Ali shouted to get his opponent's attention. Bryan walked right into a firm slap to the chest and a wing buffeting. "You gave others hope!" SLAP. "You gave us a reason to come here!" SLAP. "You opened a door that you want to slam shut in our faces?!?" SLAP. "DON’T TURN YOUR BACK ON US NOW!!"

 

"You can't change a dragon's mind!" he snapped, flinging Ali to the corner.

 

Ali reversed. Daniel ran up the ropes to flip onto Mustafa.

 

Daniel landed with only enough time to get his head spiked into the mat with a tornado DDT. "Doesn't mean I won't try," Ali whispered as he tried once more to keep the American Dragon down.

 

Bryan shoved Ali away, but his power was starting to fade. Ali saw his chance.

 

Dragging Bryan to another corner, his wings quivered. _This is where the thrall really comes in._ Ali stumbled up the ropes, taking one last glance down.

 

"This is for inspiring us. Remember it."

 

Bryan rolled clear, leaving the poor angel flat on his face. Ali rolled to his back, feeling his leg grabbed and slammed into the ringpost a few times. "Is that inspiring?" Bryan taunted as he rolled back in the ring. "Because you've only inspired me to do WORSE to AJ Styles on Sunday. And he won't know what hit him."

 

Ali screamed as the heel hook locked in place. He could feel the dragon's tail adding leverage and only cinching it tighter. He slapped the mat with urgency, giving the Dragon his victory.

 

Bryan didn't need to celebrate. He cradled his belt with a greedy pride. "Welcome to mother Earth. That's what happens when angels fly too close to the ground."

 

Bryan almost purposely permitted his lamed opponent to wander up the ramp. Ali refused assistance, but his frustration only got his mind rolling.

 

_Angels always rise to challenges. We will fight again._

 

Bryan galloped up the ramp. “How dare you!” He snagged both of Ali’s arms and started stomping his head into the ramp. “This is how you sound in my head! This is how it feels in my head! Let’s see you rise from THAT!”

 

Again with the heel hook. Again, Ali screamed. Refs swarmed them to break all that up but the damage had been done. The angry dragon turned back to the “ungrateful, fickle populous” for their thrall while the angel writhed in pain. One referee stayed with Mustafa to help him up and walk with him back through the curtain once Bryan finished showboating.

 

Backstage sounded strangely quiet. Ali had his eyes closed, focusing on the sore leg and hoping he could hobble to the trainer’s room without help. The ref assisting him directed Ali to a hallway. “Last door on the right.”

 

Mustafa’s eyes opened to an audience. Jeff Hardy. The New Day. The Usos. Each one congratulating him in turn, expressing their appreciation despite his loss. His smile started to come back. Enigma made sure he’d shown up first. Roman’s cousins had their own “glow” to them even without Naomi. The New Day’s consistent and genuine positivity bolstered him; his leg wasn’t as sore now.

 

Before he reached the training room, he spotted an open door and could hear conversation about the match. He didn’t expect to see Mike and Maria Kanellis sitting together, watching a monitor propped up on a small audio case. Behind them stood a cross-section of the 205 Live locker room - Cedric Alexander, Noam Dar, “Gentleman” Jack Gallagher, the recently returned Ariya Daivari, Tony Nese and current champion Buddy Murphy. They watched replays of the match, even the beatdown, quiet conversation exchanged, all with raised eyebrows and tones of respect.

 

 _Respect is stronger than Thrall,_ Ali pondered as he crept away from the door to have his leg checked. They’ll find him soon enough.

 


End file.
